The Midwife and the Millionaire

‘I apologise, Sophie.’ To give him his due he looked as confused as she felt. ‘We seem to have got off on the wrong foot. Twice.’ Those deadly lips of his were as devastating in an almost smile as she’d imagined. Damn him.

‘Now why do we rub each other the wrong way, do you think?’

No way was Sophie going there. She looked him up and down. Coolly, she hoped. ‘I’m not interested in rubbing anyone at all.’

His almost smile, which she decided was forced anyway, departed and he nodded. ‘Let’s go in, then.’ He gestured with his hand for her to precede him, but he didn’t touch her. And she didn’t thank him for the courtesy because she could feel his eyes on her back uncomfortably the whole way up the steps. And he was still in her space.

Levi watched her attempt to walk sedately ahead of him; they both knew something had happened. He wanted to come up beside her and put his hand on the small of her back—lay claim, in fact—and he crunched his fingers into his palm to stop from reaching out. She’d invaded his head with the tiny bit he’d seen the other day but in full-blown glory she took his breath away.

Her dress was simple and blue but smoothed the slender line of her back and hips as she swayed in front of him and her legs were bare and brown and long enough to dream about. This was crazy. She smoked, just by walking in front of him.

It felt as if a wire from one of the fences dragged him along in her wake, and there was a tautness he could see in her shoulders that said she wasn’t comfortable either.

He didn’t know what it was. Apart from totally impractical and heinously inconvenient…but then again the travel agent had quoted the Kimberleys as a destination of adventure. Suddenly he was thinking of a side tour of a different sort.

He ushered her, with great restraint and no contact, through to the veranda where they all shared the sunset, or at least her brother and his sister shared it; he and Sophie separately observed. Maybe not even that because he wasn’t looking at hills bathed in purple.

He’d always had a thing about women with long necks and hers flowed like an orchid to her throat. He’d bet her skin felt as soft as a petal. He shifted his scrutiny away from temptation and looked higher. He couldn’t see her eyes from where he stood but he knew they were blue. Like her dress. High cheekbones, snubby nose that should have just been snubby but turned out deliciously cute, and those lips. He reefed his eyes away and took a long swallow of his beer. Who was he and what had happened to the normal, sane, overworked man who’d arrived last week?

Shame it wasn’t prehistoric times because dragging her off to his cave looked mighty appealing to him at this moment. And no one had appealed for a while. He’d better find something to stay focused on, something apart from how to get her into bed.

‘Odette tells me you’re a midwife,’ he said, and now he could see her eyes. Her pupils were big and dark and he’d read somewhere that was a sign of arousal. He hoped so ‘cause he was sure his eyes would be all pupil to his lashes.

She ran her finger around the rim of her glass and even that tiny movement made him swallow. ‘And community nurse, and anything else that needs medical attention,’ she said.

He almost wished he was sick. ‘Sounds diverse. It must be a heavy workload.’ He watched her face light up.

‘I enjoy it,’ she said. ‘Love it, in fact. Now it has the added dimension of meeting people like Odette who’d benefit from access to a midwife.’

Passion for her job. Bless her. He used to have that. Now he didn’t even want to talk about work. ‘Odette said you’ve just returned from Perth.’

He felt the cold breeze and even her pupils constricted until her eyes were light blue again. She jutted her chin and he regretted the question. Obviously bad choice of conversation and a major setback. Probably a good thing.

‘Yes. It’s great to be home.’ Such a cold voice, so different than when she’d spoken of work.

She put her glass down and turned to his sister. ‘The view is wonderful, Odette.’ Sophie pretended to be absorbed and tried to fade Levi into the background. She didn’t want to think about Perth and the fool she’d made of herself there. Though it served as a reminder not to be foolish here. Just because externally Odette’s brother was hard to ignore, internally he’d be the same as Brad. He’d already shown his arrogant, untruthful side. Rich, callous, oblivious to hurting others. And she’d promised she’d never become that vulnerable again.

She just wished he’d stop studying her. She could feel him watching. Could feel the brush of his analytical study as if she were some strange species he hadn’t figured out yet and it made her want to think of some witty, slash-cutting thing to make him back off. But of course she couldn’t think of something. No doubt tonight in bed it would be there on her tongue.

Well, he could look, but she refused to squirm. He’d be used to city women falling all over him but he’d come to the wrong place for that. Here a woman wanted a man with more to his repertoire than looking good.

‘So what do you do, Levi?’ Apart from watching me. Not that she was interested.

‘I have a business in Sydney.’

City slicker. She’d bet it wasn’t a physical job because his hands looked too clean. She wasn’t going to comment, even mentally, on his obvious fitness.

He raised his eyebrows. ‘You have a very expressive face. By the curl of your lip I’m surprised you think I do anything?’

‘Perhaps.’ She abandoned the subject. If he didn’t want to tell her, then that was fine. The less she knew about him, the better. She turned her shoulder further away from him.

‘My sister tells me you don’t like helicopters much.’

Politeness meant she had to turn back. No doubt he would see her reluctance and maybe then he’d leave her alone. ‘Nothing personal to helicopters, I don’t like to fly.’

He shifted his body so she was lined up with him again. ‘Shame, then. A pilot’s licence would be useful with the distances they have out here.’

Like Kate and her plane. She’d never feel comfortable enough to do that. ‘My friend flies. I’ll do without.’

He acknowledged her aversion with a flick of his hand. ‘It’s a different world, immediate, stunning, and even I admit this country is spectacular from the air.’

She felt her hackles rise and she sipped her drink before she answered to damp down her desire to demand he appreciate her home. ‘The Kimberleys are spectacular from the ground as well.’

He put his glass down. ‘I’ve offended you again.’

‘The bush is not for everyone.’ She shrugged, thankfully.

‘And you’re happy about that?’

It seemed she couldn’t cause him offence. ‘There are advantages.’ Well, at least they were conversing in a fairly normal way, and then a waiter appeared and it was time for dinner.

Levi gestured her ahead of him and Sophie pulled up short at the candlelit veranda; a glass ceiling showcased the glorious starlit sky above a table that glowed with white linen and silver cutlery. ‘Amazing room.’

‘Very civilised,’ Levi agreed, as if he were still surprised by it. Even that offended her, as if they couldn’t put on a good show up here in the bush.

She took her seat and, much to Sophie’s amazement, dinner proved a delightful affair. They were joined by the resort manager, Steve, a handsome young man—more Odette’s age than Levi’s—who said and did all the right things and was very anxious to ensure that Odette was safely seated or served, as if she were an invalid. Baby phobia, Sophie guessed, but he left Sophie with a feeling of awkwardness she couldn’t explain.

The rapport between Levi and Odette showed genuine affection. Reluctantly Sophie admitted she liked that—family was important—so he had some redeeming features which she didn’t really want to see. And Levi devoted himself to being a wonderful host. Then again, her ex, Brad, had been a great host too.

Odette remained animated and ‘William’ held his own end of the conversation up for a change. Sophie had to shut her mouth when she would normally have answered for her brother until finally she subsided in awe at his previously hidden ability to socialise. He could have come on his own after all. Great!

Until the talk turned to helicopters and the suggestion of a joint expedition the next day. This she couldn’t keep silent on. ‘I hope you don’t expect me to go along. Helicopters fall out of the sky.’

Levi sat back in his chair and smiled at her. ‘No, they don’t.’

Loosened up by the delightful Margaret River Shiraz, Sophie pointed her finger at him. ‘I want to know what happens when the engine stops in a helicopter.’

Her comment came in a lull and stilled the other conversations, and Levi tilted his head at her. ‘They glide. Autorotation. Instead of the air being pulled in from the top by the engine, the rotors turn the other way and pull the air in from underneath as you descend. Gives you fairly good forward and downward control. Like a winged aeroplane, just not as far.’

She didn’t believe him. ‘How far?’

‘Enough to get passengers on the ground without hurting them.’ He held her gaze, daring her to disbelieve him.

Sounded too simple. ‘Then you can take off again?’

He rubbed his chin. ‘Maybe not always without hurting the chopper.’ He seemed sure of his facts.

Sophie digested that.